Younger and Stronger
by Sherlockiansquid
Summary: Haymitch is reaped for the Second Quarter Quell along with three other interesting tributes to fight to the death in what is supposed to be the most hyped games ever. Facing the evil, the unkind and the dangerous; Haymitch must beat all odds to reign supreme over the Games. But what is it that the Capitol have up their sleeves to make this the most brutal games ever.


_Let me know what you think please. I haven't been writing in an age._

_- SS_

* * *

Haymitch awoke too early for his liking and he turned in his single bed. Sun shone lazily through his window, shinning down onto his pale skin, outlining the small freckle-like spots on his arm. Looking across his room, he found his brother lying awake, staring up at the ceiling. His wispy brown hair fell over one of his eyes and his mouth was pulled into a tight grimace. Flipping onto his side, Haymitch whispered, "Artur."

Artur looked around and found Haymitch staring at him, his grey eyes flickering in the morning light. "Hey brother," he said solemnly back. Haymitch tried to smile and after failing that, he pushed himself lazily out of bed and clambered onto Arturs', sitting cross legged against the wall before turning his brother to face him.

"You'll be fine," Haymitch said, punching Artur lightly on the arm. Artur only sighed.

"But I've got double the chance of being in it this year," Artur complained back, "It's the Quarter Quell remember? Two boys and two girls. And what happens if you get taken? Or Felicity?"

Haymitch winced internally. Felicity, his beautiful, beautiful girlfriend. What if she was to be taken? He shook his head ruefully; he didn't need this stress on his shoulders. Of course he liked her a damned lot but he didn't need to worry about her as well as Artur and frankly, himself. And it was much harder with Felicity; he couldn't protect her like he could with Artur. She was a girl and so he wouldn't be able to volunteer for her if the time was to come. He simply smiled back at Artur, "Don't worry about it; we'll all be back here by supper." Artur nodded back and yawned again.

"Get some more sleep and I'll wake you up when it's time to get ready," Haymitch said, jumping off the bed and closing the bedroom door behind him.

The house was silent as he crept along the halls, eager to leave before his father talked his ears off about the impending doom upon their family. His father was what you'd call a mad-man, Haymitch thought, constantly talking about the chance of an apocalypse or the Capitol turning out to be lizard people. He'd loved it when his mother was around; that was until she'd run off with the local peacekeeper as part of a sordid affair. He shook his head and left the house, not bothering to put any shoes on.

Outside the morning was crisp and Haymitch drunk it all in, tasting the closest he would ever get to pure freedom. He traced around the electrified fences that no longer worked; frankly District 12 didn't have enough money to do that sort of thing. Beyond the fence was a meadow – one which Haymitch dreamed about lying in and enjoying the sun – but he never dared to get anywhere near it. It wasn't that he was afraid; he just had a reputation for being a 'troublesome' child and thus any daring move on his part could end him and his family on executioner's row. He passed the backs of neglected homes, bricks falling off them and drain pipes stuck at odd angles, sewage trickling out them. He passed through the Black Market of District 12, though nearly everyone was at home, scared shitless about the upcoming Reaping. Finally he made it to the plaza where they were setting up shop – a big stadium, the reaping bowls centre of attention, four plastic chairs that seemed to be dredged up from the dumpsters snuggly fitted into one corner and a giant screen falling from some scaffolding and reaching the edge of the back of the stadium. The Panem symbol shone a bright blue and Haymitch had the urge to spit at it. _Assholes,_ he thought to himself as he trailed past the plaza, Peacekeepers watching him with narrowed eyes.

By the time he had reached back home, his father was up, running around the house in panic. Turning at the sound of the door opening, he grabbed Haymitch and pushed him against the wall, babbling too speedily for Haymitch to catch. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down," he said, laying a gentle hand on his father and pushing him back. His father looked at him, his eyes enraged and flicking all over the place. Breathing out slowly, he moved his father into a chair and sat him down, muttering a song his mother had once sang to him as a baby.

His father seemed to calm, not a lot, but enough that he wasn't spurting out nonsense anymore. Haymitch quickly checked him over and found that his arm had a long knife mark in it. "Did you do this?" he asked.

His father didn't respond, likely meaning a yes. He grabbed a stray cloth, dribbled what left of the water they had and wrapped it around his father's arm. He then placed his father's hand on top of it. "Hold it there and don't move," Haymitch said, "I'm going to check on Artur."

Artur was still in bed when Haymitch muscled his way through the door. Kicking the bed, Artur groaned and rolled, falling onto the floor with a soft oomph. "Go get refreshed," Haymitch said roughly.

"But…but…but," Artur grumbled, pulling himself off the floor.

"Do it," Haymitch said sharply, "I haven't got a clue if there's any water anywhere but do it regardless. I need you prepped and ready to go."

Haymitch trailed back to the kitchen and sat down next to his father. Neither of them spoke for a long time until his brother arrived back, his eyes switching nervously between Haymitch and their father. He knew about the rough time that he was going through but didn't fully understand it, often complaining that he wished he had a normal father. "Praise Panem," he said sarcastically, "I swear you take longer to get ready than Caesar Flickerman before the interviews." Artur simply rolled his eyes in reply.

* * *

Haymitch stood among the sixteen year old boys section at the reaping and honestly, Haymitch had smelt enough BO off these guys for a lifetime. Each one of them was sweating profusely and it was starting to get gross, even for him. His eyes scanned over the female side where Felicity stood, picking at her light blue dress. Haymitch tried to get her eye but didn't succeed. Instead he caught the eye of another girl who smirked at him, her green cat-like eyes flashing. She looked unusual for a Seam kid and fairly new to the district by the looks of it. Haymitch knew everyone, so she had to be. Giving a small wink, she just laughed silently, casually giving him a wink back as the Mayor waltzed onto the stage.

Haymitch was too busy thinking about the girl to pay attention, and besides, he'd heard the same spiel time and time again. She hadn't even reacted to the wink he sent her which often sent shivers down girl's spines. It wasn't that he was super model attractive, but he had been told countless times that he was good looking. Brown hair in tight curls cut short and grey eyes that seemed to spark just slightly at the chance of mischief. His eyebrows were heavy and thick, his lips full and a light-ish red. His attention was diverted when the high pitch squeal of their escort. And there she was, Haymitch grimacing at the sight.

Rainbow hair pulled into a tight ponytail, eyes brown with disgust for the district. She wore a dress which was both too tight and too short for her fattening frame and her green coloured skin made her look like she'd come from another planet. "Hello," she roared, "I'm Stephanie and I'm here to start up the reaping." People clapped half-heartedly, trying not to show that they all outright despised her. Haymitch looked past her at the other seats that were preoccupied by a peacekeeper, the mayor and their only victor, Holin Rhinestone, a lean power machine and only ever winner of fifty games. The guy was stranger than his father but for once he didn't seem to be hyperactive like he did whenever he stripped naked and ran around town. Maybe they'd given him a tranquillity shot like they did with animals.

Finally, after showing the video of the Hunger Games being born and the destruction of District 13, Stephanie and everyone else turned their attention to the reaping bowls. Haymitch looked over to where his brother was and they shared a glance, Haymitch giving him a tight lipped smile. "As you know, with it being the Second Quarter Quell, I will draw two lucky girls and boys."

The area went suddenly hushed, the air seemingly chilling around Haymitch. Stephanie hopped up and down excitedly and putting one finger to her lips, drew out the name from the bowl named 'Ladies.'

"The first is…Maysilee Donner!" she called. And wouldn't you know it, the girl with the green eyes shoved her way out the crowd and towards the front of the stage. Whimpering could be heard from behind him and he turned slightly, seeing the crying figure of what must have been her mother, wrapped in another females embrace. Maysilee simply stood defiant at the front, not even casting a glance at her despairing parent. Her eyes shifted around the ground and settled on Haymitch; she winked again.

"Is anyone willing to volunteer?" Stephanie asked, jumping around the stage, shaking Maysilee's hand wildly as she did so. The crowd was as dormant and Haymitch could imagine a tumbleweed flying through the crowds of kids. It made him laugh to think about and covering his mouth, he suppressed a smile. People couldn't grin at a reaping; this was serious business! Finally, Stephanie shook her head, understanding that like the last 50 years, District 12 didn't do volunteers.

"The second is Zoelle Gleed," Stephanie called but the crowd remained motionless. And then even more still. No one moved. This was almost embarrassing if he cared, Haymitch thought. Finally the Peacekeeper at the front stood and motioned with a single hand. Two other peacekeepers ran forward, darting through the crowd. A girl rushed into the aisle, her brown hair making a audible whooshing sound as he ran by. Soon, both she and the Peacekeepers were out of sight. Then, screaming was heard and she was being dragged down the aisle by her hair, her eyes wild with rage, spitting madly at them. She was pushed to the stage and Maysilee offered a hand to shake but Zoelle spat, hitting one of Maysilee's boots. She grimaced, pushing Zoelle lightly away from her. Who knew a thirteen year old could have such a temper.

"Erm," Stephanie said, "Let's get on with the boy's shall we." She wandered over to the bowl, just missing Zoelle's outstretched foot.

She dug around in the bowl, longer than was necessary and drew a solitary name. Haymitch sighed, why couldn't this all just be over with? Springing forward, she whispered, "Julian Forge." The crowd muttered; this was one of the peacekeepers children. A few started to applaud or at least make some whistles. Haymitch felt almost bad for the kid, he was crying, tears streaming down his face and creating a makeshift puddle on the floor. It was obviously the child of the peacekeeper onstage for his look of shock, but when the kid reached the stage, grabbing onto his father and weeping on him, getting his newly pressed outfit wet that the peacekeeper snapped. He slapped his son, whispered harshly to him and then pushed him next to Zoelle who was looking on with total disgust. Julian wiped his eyes and tried to look tough but it was easy to see that he was close to bursting into more tears.

Stephanie looked extremely excited about the diversity of her new tributes and rushed forward to grab another name. Arte tensed in his section and she opened the piece slowly. "Haymitch Abernathy!" she bellowed.

Haymitch stood there a long moment; re-evaluate his life and future prospects. They didn't look good if he was completely honest with himself. I mean he'd have to spend a week or so being pampered and trained like a pup – how humiliating. A scream shook him out of his drifting thoughts and he looked over to see Arte, trying to drag himself towards the front. Haymitch walked to the aisle, trying to get his emotions in check. He didn't cry, he didn't run away, he didn't even frown. Maysilee smirked from on stage and Haymitch smirked back, clambering up it to stand beside her. The two of them locked eyes and Maysilee, just slightly, licked her lips.

"Let's give our tributes a round of applause," Stephanie announced and ungratefully, District 12 did so.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Maysilee whispered.

Haymitch just snorted, "A think you need to take a long look at yourself but you start judging someone as handsome as me."

The mayor finished up on stage, thanking the Capitol or whatever while the Peacekeepers rounded the four tributes up and let them off down one of the side roots.

_Things were going to get interesting…_


End file.
